


Osteology

by Rehlia



Category: Undertale (Video Game), underswap
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Human/Monster Romance, Mild Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Monsters, Older Characters, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Rehlia's Underswap, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, Some Monster Racism, Underswap Monsters - Freeform, Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, University, fast burn, reader is female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:25:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehlia/pseuds/Rehlia
Summary: Your first stint at university wasn't very successful. You had to drop out because you had no idea what you were doing with your life.Now, almost a decade later, you've finished an apprenticeship and are back to add a degree so you can get a better job. Older than everyone else and with a different perspective on life thanks to your experience, you feel a little isolated. Until you meet the one person who shares your age. Optimistic, cheerful, funny, kind - you could almost fall in love with this guy.Too bad he's a monster and society doesn't really accept that...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally starting a new Sans/Reader fic! I've really missed writing this kind of story, so I'm very excited to finally get to start with this project :D I hope you'll all like it! 
> 
> Quick notes at the beginning:  
> This is an Underswap fanfic, but I'm using my own version of Underswap where the characters still have most of their hobbies/interests from canon. Most of it should be self-explanatory I think but you can check out my [AU headcanon collection fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916023/chapters/34551410) if you want to know the exact details! 
> 
> Secondly, a lot of the university stuff is based on my own experience attending one. Especially the organisation parts. So if you feel that this university is disorganised and slightly weird... be glad for your luck, haha!
> 
>  
> 
> [You can regularly vote on which of my fics I should work on next on my tumblr!](https://rehlia.tumblr.com/)

Orientation day. 

You kind of expected it to be less overwhelming and confusing now that you’re doing it a second time, but unfortunately you were wrong. It’s still confusing and overwhelming. Hundreds or maybe thousands of people are crowding the hallways of a building that’s just slightly too small to contain them all, chatting and shouting over each other, walking back and forth, trying to figure out where to go and what to do. Professors are shouting too, waving papers around, there’s signs being held up for the individual majors to show where the schedules can be gotten. 

Honestly, why didn’t they digitise this yet?! 

You quietly sigh, suppressing the deep-seated need to shake your head at all the chaos. It’s the age of the internet, but universities act as if they’ve never even heard of the term. They have a website, they have email, some of the professors seem willing to upload course material to a shared platform, but that seems to be about it. 

Schedules, the immatriculation process, books, even essays and exams and grading - that still all happens on paper. 

At least at this university. 

Maybe others are more modern and use online services more, having the funds for proper platforms and security software. But here? Nope. Good old-fashioned paper it is. It’s probably not too surprising, considering this is a very small, very local university with no special accolades to its name. The only thing it has going for itself is that it’s cheap, which is part of the reason why you chose it too, honestly, so it’s not like you can complain too much. 

“Uhm, excuse me…?” 

“Yes?” you turn around and see a girl in her early twenties in front of you, smooth skin and that sparkle of bright excitement in her eyes betraying her as a young freshman. 

“I still need my schedule for the next week,” she tells you, and looks at you expectantly. 

“Yeah, me too, I haven’t found my professor yet either,” you admit with a chuckle. 

“Oh. Oh! Gosh, I’m so sorry, I thought you were, uhm…” 

Ah. 

Right. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just a student too.” An awkward silence spreads between the two of you as she takes you in. “I’m starting today,” you add. That doesn’t really seem to help. 

“Right! Of course. Sorry again. I’ll just, uhm…” she edges sideways and then abruptly turns around and leaves, looking incredibly flustered. At least it seems like that was just as awkward for her as it was for you, so apparently her words weren’t out of malice. 

Still, that’s probably something you should prepare yourself for. It’ll likely happen again quite a bit, all things considered. 

Unlike everyone else in these halls, you’re decidedly _not_ in your early twenties anymore. 

In fact, you have almost an entire decade on them. 

No wonder they mistake you for staff, you must seem ancient to people who are fresh out of school. Some of them look as if they haven’t even made it to their twenties yet in the first place. They look incredibly young to you, which feels like a really old-person thing to think. You wish there were more people your age here, but it seems like you’re out of luck so far. The oldest ones you’ve been able to spot were in their mid-twenties, and you’re not sure if those were even freshmen with how quickly and easily they navigated their way through the throng of people. 

You finally spot the sign for your major, which helps a lot shaking you out of your insecure thoughts. There’s something else to worry about for a while, what exactly your required courses are, what electives you want to take, how much you think you can shoulder to get the credits you need. You want to get a head start if possible, but you’re also aware that you’ll have to pace yourself so you don’t collapse under the amount of required effort. That already didn't work out so well for you last time. 

The first time you went to university you had been terribly naive. 

You hadn't been too sure what to do with your life but listened to everyone who told you that you would never get anywhere without a degree. Not knowing what exactly to do, you picked a generalised major in the social sciences, only to find that the courses bored you and your prospects were abysmal. You kept at it for a while in spite of that, not wanting to disappoint anybody, and racked up more and more college debt in the meantime, because even a tiny, cheap institution like Ebott University has some fees to pay. Eventually, you realised that you were stuck in a dead end, talked it over with your folks, and dropped out. They weren't exactly happy, but you reassured them that you'd do better from then on. 

That was a promise you had managed to stick to. You found several internships to test out where your interests lie, worked inbetween and on the evenings and weekends to pay off your debt while staying with your parents to save costs. Once you figured out what you could do, you got an apprenticeship in metalwork and engineering, finished your training, and began working. Your debt was eventually paid off and you moved out, carefully managing your expenses while working steadily towards a large nest egg. 

You liked your job, but it became clear to you quickly that you didn't exactly have a lot of career opportunities in it. Small-scale, local engineering? Easy metalwork? Sure. But for the interesting stuff, designing large machines and complex constructions for a variety of industries - that's where the degree would be necessary. You ended up cutting back your expenses even more once you figured that out. 

Only now that you have the majority of the funds you need did you return to university with a clear plan in your head. You'll get a degree in your field, paid for with money you earned by yourself, and then you'll move up and get working in a larger company, maybe something international. Maybe you'll even start your own business on the side, if you come up with something good enough. The thought intrigues you for sure. 

So that's where you stand right now. 

You feel quite confident about your plans and relaxed thanks to the fact that you have to worry a bit less about money this time around. But on the downside, it took you a while to get here, and it's really noticeable that you're way past the age range of the usual student here. Not that you didn't expect that, but… it still feels strange to be confronted with the fact in such a way. 

You try to shake the thought off, not wanting to linger on it. You'll have to deal with it often enough in the coming months and years. Instead, now that you have your schedule and electives sorted out, you make your way to the auditorium where your first class takes place. It's kind of wild to you that they're doing classes on the first day in addition to all the organisation for the newbies, but then this university isn't known for its splendid organisation. 

It's actually an improvement to your first round at this joint, where the welcoming speech was scheduled to happen at the same time as half of the first year's introductory courses to their majors, which had to be picked a full week _before_ introduction somehow. Which hadn't even been announced. You're still not sure how they thought that would work out, or why the faculty were surprised when you and many others missed your first classes, showing up to the welcoming speech instead with the assumption that you would get an explanation of what to do next and how to pick your major and classes there. 

So all things considered, this is better than it could be. At least you got some information on the proceedings with your letter of acceptance this time around, and since it's your second stint here you have an easier time managing. 

Come to this of it maybe that was part of the reason that girl mistook you for staff - just because you look like you know what's going on. 

You play with the thought of deliberately looking more clueless in order to blend in better, but toss the thought immediately. Playing stupid for brownie points with strangers honestly just feels silly by now. That's not you anymore. 

When you reach the auditorium, you look around for a free seat. Feeling nervous about where to sit is surprisingly one of the things that doesn't just vanish with increased age. You feel just as awkward about it now as you did the first time around. 

A lot of people have bags on the seats next to them, apparently keeping those free for their friends. Others don't but look at you with worry and distrust when they notice you approach, which makes you feel even more awkward. You slide into one of the seats towards the front where it's emptier, feeling more comfortable to sit alone for now. 

Even though you hope that won’t be a permanent state of course. 

For now, it’s how it is. You remind yourself once more to stop overthinking it and take out your pen and paper instead, just in case anything important will come up during this first class. You hear a murmur go through the room, people suddenly starting to whisper while trying hard to pretend they aren’t. You’re assuming that means that the professor has arrived, although you don’t really turn to check, still somewhat lost in your own thoughts about age and whether or not you’ll be able to make new friendships here with how things are currently standing. 

“Excuse me, is this seat free?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you say immediately before you even look up, pleased that someone is asking at all and in such a friendly tone too. It’s only when you eyes catch up that you have to suppress the need to startle. 

Looking down at you is a living, breathing skeleton. Big teeth in a big grin, round eye sockets with eerie, bright pips of light floating in those, that do nothing to dispel the darkness inside the rounded skull. It’s wearing a blue shirt and jeans and white sneakers, and you can see all the details of the arm and finger bones that aren’t covered by fabric. 

Your thoughts derail completely for a second. 

The skeleton stares at you, while you stare back. 

It takes what feels like more than a minute for you to realise that you’re probably being incredibly rude by staring so hard, especially since the skeleton hasn’t quite sat down yet, hovering a little over the seat. 

“Sorry, I uh… “ 

Shit, what do you even say?

“I can sit somewhere else if you want,” the skeleton offers. Its tone of voice is still really pleasant and friendly, although you get the distinct impression that this friendliness is much more superficial now. 

“No, no, it’s fine, please,” you stammer out. “I’m sorry. I really don’t mind.” 

“Okay!” 

The skeleton finally sits down, opening its bag to take out its writing utensils too. Shit, you probably shouldn’t call it an it, should you? It sounds male to you, with a really pleasant, smooth and deep voice, but how do you know? Maybe it’s rude to assume? 

“I’m Sans, by the way. The magnificent Sans!” 

You quickly introduce yourself back, not wanting to cause another blunder where you stare at the skeleton…. at Sans like an idiot. 

Glancing around, you notice that everyone else is staring too. And whispering. That must have been what caused the whispering in the first place, actually. You feel really bad about your reaction now. 

When you were younger, you probably would have beaten yourself up over it and never mentioned it again, avoiding the situation forever in the hopes that the awkward would go away. By now though, you’ve had a couple of painful lessons about ignoring problems and social blunders, so you decide to do something about it and speak up instead. 

“Hey, uh… I’m sorry about staring at you just now,” you say to Sans once he’s looking at you again. “Last I had heard monsters were still in quarantine up on the mountain. I didn’t know that had been lifted so this was just unexpected. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s okay. We’ve been getting that reaction a lot. Apparently the government didn’t really make a big deal about us getting to leave quarantine,” Sans shrugs. 

You’re suddenly filled with questions. Now that the immediate shock of seeing a walking, talking skeleton casually sitting down next to you in a classroom is wearing off, you feel like you’re bursting with curiosity. 

The news about monsters first broke almost two years ago. There had been sightings of a “white devil” hunting criminals about to commit terrible crimes like murder or rape. The criminals were found lifeless at the sites where the victims reported them to be, although no immediate cause of death could be determined by forensic specialists. The mystery was solved a few days later when excited news reporters filmed a crowd of monsters at the foot of Mount Ebott, the queen of whom was a large, white goat monster. She declared that she had been the one hunting the criminals - that she had needed human souls to break the magic seal that had trapped her species under the mountain for over a thousand years, and that she hadn't wanted to harm innocents for that purpose so she had chased criminals instead. 

The government then stepped in and enforced a quarantine on the monsters and the journalists they'd already had contact with, as well as the would have been victims that the queen saved. They needed to make sure that neither monsters nor humans would catch illnesses from each other, was the official reason, on top of general safety concerns. Understandable of course, though you and many others had also felt sad for the monsters being imprisoned again. 

Over time, fewer and fewer news were reported on the monsters. Although the discovery of a whole new species was obviously huge, there were other important things to be reported too and the attention span of the general public turned out to be a little short when it came to the species itself. Movies were made about monsters, toys for children to cash in on the fad. Human and animal rights groups campaigned for their release and that was sometimes worth a news segment. But otherwise things got quiet. 

And now, all of a sudden, they were out. 

From Sans’ expression, you get the feeling that he recognises your curiosity, but by now the professor has actually arrived so you don't get to see if he's willing to indulge you or not. 

The professor gives Sans an equally surprised look, but then proceeds with the lecture without any comment or otherwise drawing attention to the presence of the monster among you. Which might be a good thing in the end. 

Despite this, you're clearly not the only one who has trouble focusing, eyes continuously straying to glance at pearly bones.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [You can regularly vote on which of my fics I should work on next on my tumblr!](https://rehlia.tumblr.com/)

The lesson is predictably unproductive, not just because it’s the first day and people are barely prepared, but also because of the skeleton distracting everyone. 

You almost feel sorry for the professor who looks visibly frustrated by everyone’s lack of attention. And for Sans of course, who doesn't react in any way, but it must be annoying to be stared at like that. You know that you wouldn't like it. In the end, that means that everyone is visibly relieved when the two hours are over and the class is dismissed. Most people at this point have been spending hours scrambling to get their schedules together and then immediately following that in a boring lecture, so everyone is hurrying to get packed up. You suspect they'll all make a run for the cafeteria now - you know that you feel pretty hungry after such a busy morning. 

“Do you want to have lunch together?”

“Huh?” 

You look up from packing your bag and find Sans looking at you expectantly. 

“Uh, yeah, sure!” you say quickly before your surprise at being asked could be misinterpreted as something more negative. “Did you want to stay on campus for that? Because if not I know a really good snack bar not too far from here that makes the best vegetarian food ever. I mean. I heard monsters are vegetarian. If you want something else that's fine too.”

“We are vegetarian! That sounds good,” he tells you. His expectant expression switches to bright happiness in a second. 

Relieved that you avoided another social blunder, you finish packing your stuff and leave the room with him. 

“So… what’s your major?” you ask him just so you have something to talk about. It’s maybe not terribly original, but it’s a safe topic and one that students usually start with. You’re not sure how he feels about being stared at for two hours, but you know that it would make you feel insecure and craving normalcy, so you hope he’ll appreciate the relatively mundane topic. 

It seems to have been exactly the right choice, because Sans’ face lights up like Halloween, Christmas and New Year’s all came early.

“Astronomy and Planetary Science! Because I love the stars! Honestly, they’re my favourite thing about the surface! I read _so_ much about them underground and we had these sparkling rocks on the cave ceilings that we pretended were stars and looked at with telescopes but I always hoped to see the _real_ stars one day! Space!! And now I can! And since the royal guard has been disbanded and I can’t become a member anymore and I didn’t want to go into politics with Chara I decided to do this instead!” He’s talking so fast his words are nearly stumbling over themselves and you can’t help but watch his face with a smile as he goes on. There’s so much joy and enthusiasm in his expression, so much genuine love for what he’s going to do here. It makes you feel happy too, to see someone so bright and happy about their chosen subject. 

Besides, it’s really fascinating to you how expressive and malleable his face seems to be, considering that it otherwise looks like bone. Sure, it doesn’t look like a normal human skull. The whole skull is bigger and rounder, the sockets are bigger and rounder with those floating pips of light in them, the features are clustered closer together, the mouth is big and his teeth are surrounded by a soft-seeming, malleable ridge that allows a great variety of expression from him. He looks almost cartoonish, like a cute imitation of a skeleton rather than an actual human skeleton. 

“That must be incredible, to dream of something and then suddenly have it come true,” you comment, slightly distracted by watching his facial anatomy. 

“It’s very exciting! We… uhm…” his excited demeanour deflates a little. “We didn’t really expect to be freed any time soon anymore, you know? It’s been a thousand years, at this point it was just unlikely, is what we figured. I mean! We hoped! Of course! That’s what we monsters do! But… it was a little difficult sometimes. We were all really surprised when the barrier suddenly broke and the queen did it after all that time…”

You genuinely don’t know what to reply to that. Based on what you heard, it was humans who sealed the monsters underground and made it so difficult for them to escape. You feel really bad about that, even though you’re not personally at fault. 

“B-but of course that only makes it more exciting now that we did it,” he quickly continues. “It’s very nice up here. I can’t wait to see more of it now that we can. First here and then… up there!”

You’re startled out of your contemplation of humans being rough on monsters by him pointing up at the sky while you’re walking across the campus. 

“Up there…? Oh!” It suddenly clicks. Stars. Planetary science. Space. _Up there._ “You want to become an astronaut?!”

“Yep!” He pops the ‘p’ sound of the word and puffs out his chest. His grin has widened and his sockets look set and determined, despite the floating lights inside of them sparkling as if they were stars themselves. “The very first monster astronaut ever!”

“Wow. That sounds really amazing,” you tell him, genuinely impressed. 

“I know!! It’s already so cool to see the stars from down here! What must it be like to see the world from up there?!” He tilts his head back for a moment, staring up at the blue autumn sky. “I’m gonna do it!” 

“I never thought about that,” you muse, glancing up too. “What everything might look like from above. Or how to get up there at all.”

“It’s not easy, I’ll admit,” he says, and both of you refocus on the ground so you won’t walk into anyone. You’re almost at the snack bar now. “I read that to apply, you need a science degree, at least three years of related experience, perhaps even a military background, and a peak physical condition! Luckily, I’m a very magnificent person and have already all of those checked save for the degree.”

“That… is very impressive,” you say. 

“Mweh heh heh!”

You suddenly find yourself doing some very quick calculations as the two of you enter the snack bar and find a seat. Not many of the younger students seem to know this place yet - it had always been a well guarded secret among the higher semesters when you were here - so you’re in luck and don’t have to wait. You get to order immediately. 

He has three years of… scientific and/or military experience, _and_ the related training? 

“I'm thirty-two,” he interrupts your train of thought before it can fully get going. 

“Oh hey, like me!” you blurt out. You don't think you manage to hide your surprise entirely. With his enthusiasm and soft, rounded face, it's easy to think he's younger than that. 

“Yeah, I… I hoped you'd be my age,” he confesses, looking a little nervous all of a sudden. “Not that there's anything wrong with the younger students! I’m sure they’re all very nice and good people!! But for some things, a big age difference can make it hard to relate, you know?”

“Yeah, no, I get exactly what you mean,” you nod, considering him thoughtfully. “It's not that it's impossible to be friends with younger people but for some things it's easier to talk to someone with a similar level of life experience.”

“Exactly! Plus, they always think I'm even younger than them!” he groans. “It was like that with the monsters and when I arrived on campus this morning everyone asked me if I had gotten lost and was looking for the high school!”

He looks incredibly frustrated by this. You carefully try not to laugh at the mental image, knowing how annoying it must be.

“I was mistaken for a professor this morning,” you confess, thinking that might make him feel better. “It's not that I have an issue with my age or looks in general, but I admit that still kind of stung.”

“Sounds like the same issue, only backwards,” Sans sighs. “It wouldn't be so bad if it didn't happen so often, you know? It… heh, it gets _really old_ after a while.”

You're saved from having to react by your drinks and food arriving, but you stare at him regardless. He's grinning back. 

“Does it, now,” you say. You keep your voice as even as possible. 

“Heh. Mweh heh heh. Yep. _Same old_ questions about it every time.”

Oh god. This is the lamest kind of humour. So lame. It's basically dad humour. 

So why on earth is this so funny to you?! Oh god. It’s happening. You really are getting old. There’s no saving you now. 

“That's terrible,” you comment in the most noncommittal way possible. 

You lean your head on one of your hands so you can hide your mouth behind the hand inconspicuously, but you already know that your eyes are crinkling with mirth anyway. You can feel it and Sans can definitely see it. 

“Come on. You like my jokes,” he teases you.

“No.”

“I can see you like them, even though they're _old news_!”

“Noooooo,” you groan, interrupted by your own laughter, as you hide your face in both if your hands completely. “They're the worst!”

He just laughs. 

You take your hands down because it's such a captivating sound; full and warm, with his smooth and rich voice, his genuine amusement. 

It's pretty nice, you have to admit. 

You let him laugh it out and start eating in the meantime, watching him with continued amusement. He eventually calms down and tries his own food, which he sprinkles with a soft, shimmering powder first. 

“Magic,” he explains at your curious glance. “I can't eat normal human food without magic.”

“Are all monsters like that?” you want to know. 

“No, a lot of monsters can eat your food. Magic food is easier to eat though. For me it's just because…” he shifts a little in his seat, looking a bit awkward. “I'm just bones. I don't have anything inside me that can handle your food, you know? No stomach and all that. Monster food or magic food just dissolves once it's done being chewed and them becomes magic for our soul to use. That's what we're made of.”

“Huh.” That sounds really wild to you. Just the use of words like magic and soul are enough to make the whole statement feel unreal. Not to mention that he doesn’t seem to have any innards. You don't want to say that though, so you try to find something more positive to comment on. “Does it taste different when it's magic?” 

“No, it just prickles on your tongue and in your soul when you eat it, because of the magic,” he explains. “I'd offer you to try some, but I'm not really allowed to share magic food. Sorry.”

“Oh. No, it's fine, don't worry,” you assure him, before he can apologise again, because it looks as if he wants to. “Would be selfish to get you into trouble over something as simple as food.”

He noods and finally begins to eat too. He seems to like the food, so you’re glad you picked a good spot for the both of you to eat at. For a while, the two of you don't talk as you just enjoy your meals. 

“Hey, what’s your major? I never asked after you wanted to know mine,” he says suddenly, after the waiter has already come to collect your plates and you’re just enjoying the rest of your drinks before you have to go to your next classes.

“Engineering,” you tell him. “I did an apprenticeship in metalwork and welding before and wanted to get a matching degree so I could do more than just the straightforward stuff.”

At this point you feel comfortable in your knowledge that Sans won’t think your major is weird for your gender or whatever, but you still don’t expect him to look incredibly intrigued by your statement either. 

“Engineering and metalwork? Like for puzzles?! That’s what my brother studied, Papyrus! He’s really cool, you know,” he tells you earnestly.

“Puzzles?” you wonder. 

“Yes! When I was part of the royal guard back in the underground, my brother Papyrus helped me build these big metal puzzles! Ones you had to walk through physically, not just the small-scale stuff! He’s really good at it. I mean I have some ideas, but he’s _really_ creative with them. Advanced Puzzle Construction for Critical Minds is is favourite light evening lecture, that’s how good he is,” Sans gushes. 

Wow. He sure seems to love his brother. 

“What did you need all those puzzles for though?” you ask, trying to get back to what you actually meant with your initial question. 

“Oh, they’re a really big part in monster culture!” Sans tells you. “We use them for a lot of different things. For fun, to move around, as security mechanisms…”

“Ah, then your guardwork had them for security reasons?” you nod, thinking you now understand what this is about. 

“Uh… yeah!!!” He gives you a big, big grin. You think it might be the biggest you've seen on him yet. “Anyway, Papy is really good at puzzles, and engineering, and metalwork. He’s not interested in going back to university even though he has a degree and used to work in a lab, but maybe he could give you some of his old study materials? If you’re interested, of course.”

Well, that's something you don't have to think about for long. Getting some tips and study help from someone who already finished a degree in an apparently related field? No way you'd decline that. University can be hard enough as it is, you would be stupid to decline such a good offer. Last time, you had this idea in your head that accepting help would show you're weak somehow, that you should be able to manage this alone now that you were ‘grown up’ and all. But that was probably just dumb pride. Trying to do everything by yourself isn't something that works for you. You'll take all the help you can get this time around. 

“Sounds good! Maybe we could form a study group or something? A lot of our classes should be similar for the first semester or two,” you suggest. Maybe it's a bit early for a study group, considering you barely know Sans, but eh. If it doesn't work out you can still try something else. 

“Yes! We could do that! We could meet in the library or you could come visit me and my brother or we could come visit you - uhm, I mean, that depends on where you live actually, we’re not allowed to go past a certain point…” His words slowly peter out. Even though he still looks happy about your suggestion, you can tell this really bothers him. 

When you describe the location to him, it thankfully turns out that your flat is within his allowed range, but his visible relief at that fact still makes you think. 

“Are there a lot of restrictions like that for monsters?” you decide to ask. It's a sensitive topic, but that's part of why you want to know. Maybe it can help you avoid suggesting some things that he can't do, and thus help you avoid upsetting him. 

“A few,” Sans says reluctantly. “For… safety reasons.” 

“Safety reasons,” you repeat. You sound sceptical even to your own ears. 

Sans looks as if he's gauging you a little, as if he's trying to anticipate your reaction. You can't help but feel that this expression looks unusual on him. You haven't seen much of him yet of course, but so far most of his emotions seemed pretty straightforward to you. Easy even for you to read. 

“Yeah. That's… what they told us, anyway,” he finally admits. “We can't give you our food or our magic because it might not be safe. We can't go certain places because others might hurt us and it's not safe. We can't do certain jobs because people might get angry at us for doing them and it might not be safe. We can't be teachers or work with children because the cultural differences might mean it’s unsafe. We can't have relationships with humans because it might not be safe. We can't… well, like that. It goes on.”

“That's… man, that's dumb.” It's really all you can think to say. 

Sans shrugs. 

“There are some activist organisations - monster and human - saying it's dumb too, but most people just go with it,” he mumbles. 

“You'd think humans would have learned from history, but I guess not,” you sigh. 

“Learned how?”

“We kind of had similar restrictions placed on other humans for a while,” you tell him, wondering how to best summarise such a dark chapter of human history. “Several times even. Because they looked superficially different or because they had a different religion or culture. Sometimes the difference wasn't even there and one group just invented a difference about another group. But that was enough. Well, and some historical context I suppose. This happened in many countries at different times.”

“But it's not like that anymore?” Sans asks. He sounds hopeful now. 

“No. At least not here. It took some time but enough people were against it and worked hard to abolish those restrictions. There's still prejudices sometimes but officially everyone has the same rights,” you say. 

“I like that,” Sans says, staring off into a middle point. “Not the prejudice or that it happened, I mean - “

“But that we overcame it a couple of times already,” you finish gently before he can stumble over his own apologies. You know how that feels. Thinking you said something wrong and and feeling insecure about it. 

“Yeah. That.” 

He looks back at you and smiles. 

He has been smiling all day, at you, at the students and the professor, the campus, his dream of going to space and his memories of his brother, the food in this snack bar. 

But the hopeful and warm kind of smile he gives you now is one you still feel privileged to witness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [You can regularly vote on which of my fics I should work on next on my tumblr!](https://rehlia.tumblr.com/)

“But yeah, I would say the practical experience is definitely worth it. You don't have to do a full apprenticeship of course, but you could look at internships for the summer months or something like that,” you say. 

“Isn't that a lot of extra work though?” 

You're talking to one of your costudents, a young woman named Vivien, one of the few other women in the same course as you. You noticed that she kept looking at you in the classes you had together and she seemed a little insecure when it came to university matters. Since you always wished you had an older student to give you a few pointers when you first studied, you decided to talk to her and see if that was something she might be interested in once you got to know each other better. It turned out she was and over the past couple of weeks you started hanging out together every now and then, with her asking you questions about your previous university and work experiences. 

It honestly feels a little strange to be something almost like a mentor to someone younger, but not in a bad way. You kind of like the idea that you might help her avoid some of the issues you struggled with. 

“It's extra effort for sure,” you admit. “But it really helps to know what you're doing this for and what to expect when you have your degree,” you explain. “There's always little differences of course, but still. And it's also a good opportunity to network.”

“Yeah… but all those exams…” Vivien frets. 

That you don't really know what to say to. After all, your work experience started only after you left the university, so you never had to deal with the hassle of trying to fit both work and studying and exams into one tightly packed schedule. 

“Those are probably difficult to fit with an internship, yeah,” you admit. 

“I'll probably just have to suck it up and have no free time for a whole year,” Vivien says glumly, staring at the dreary weather outside. The friendly autumn sunshine that lasted throughout the first weeks of your renewed university experience had suddenly turned to rain a few days ago. “Oh well. Time to eat to forget my sorrows. Are you free or do you have class now?”

“Study session,” you tell her with an apologetic smile. 

“So early in the year? Man, you make me feel bad. You're so responsible,” Vivien complains, but with a joking undertone that makes it clear she's only teasing you. 

“I have to at least try to be the adult I outwardly appear as after all,” you chuckle, making her laugh too. 

“Then I should act my age too and go to that party with plenty of booze tonight,” she declares with a grin that's half nervous and half mischievous. 

“You should,” you tell her with an overly serious nod. 

“Hey, aren't you supposed to stop me?!”

“It's gathering experience. Even if you can't put it on your CV.” 

She bursts out laughing, immediately covering her mouth when a few other people in the hallway turn their heads at her. There are still giggles escaping from behind her hand though, and you can't help but snicker as well seeing her like this. 

You think you understand better now why Sans enjoys making people groan and laugh at his ridiculous jokes so much. 

Which reminds you… 

“Anyway, I should probably get going, I don't want to make Sans wait.”

“Oh, right. Sans is the skeleton, right?” Vivien asks, barely even waiting for your nod. “Man, you're lucky. I bet that's really interesting, hanging out with a monster.”

“He's a great guy,” you reply with a shrug. It is interesting to talk to Sans, but not because he's a monster. It's interesting because he simply happens to be interesting. 

“He’s always nice to everyone,” Vivien nods. “I wonder what it’s like for him. Being around so many humans as a monster I mean…” 

She pauses, apparently noticing that you feel slightly awkward discussing Sans being a monster. It’s not that she means anything bad by it. And of course you're often curious about all things monster yourself, but it feels weird to you to keep discussing his species instead of anything else about him. It makes you feel as though he and your friendship with him are constantly pulled into the spotlight when he’d probably prefer to just be normal. You know that you wish people wouldn’t keep staring at the two of you whenever you hang out together, as if it’s unusual that you and him are friends. 

“Anyway. I should go before the cafeteria closes,” Vivien mumbles. 

You quickly say goodbye to her, hoping she knows you're not angry at her, before make your way over to the library. You have to cross campus to reach the library building, but after having been surprised by the autumn rain twice already you thankfully remembered your umbrella today. 

It still feels nice to step inside the library building. The entrance hall has high ceilings and the entire front wall is covered in windows reaching from the floor to the very top of the roof, letting a lot of natural daylight in. Soft, reddish-brown brick makes up the rest of the walls and past the entry way with its lockers and desks where borrowed books can be returned, the floor is carpeted where the shelves begin. The building always smells like carpet and paper, and despite the high ceilings even the entry hall is relatively quiet. 

You lock your backpack in one of the lockers and take only your books and something to write with you. It used to be that bags could be taken into the building, but that rule had been changed at some point. Passing through the security gate to prevent people from stealing books, you head up the stairs at the front to reach the upper floors of the library. The front might be open, but the back of the building is separated into several floors. 

On the uppermost one are several smaller rooms that students can use for study sessions. They contain a table and some chairs to allow small groups to use them, but they’re not too big. They have three brick walls and a glass front and glass doors leading to the central corridor, to prevent people from fooling around in them. Rumour has it that some people managed to canoodle in some of these anyway, but those are unconfirmed of course. 

Sans is waiting for you in one at the end of the corridor, already having spread his stuff all across the table. He waves at you when he spots you through the glass wall. 

“Sorry, were you waiting long?” you ask him once you’re inside. 

“Nah, only five minutes or so. I used the time to review Papy’s notes.”

“Man, your brother has so much study material, it's amazing,” you say as you sit down next to him. 

“I know! He's really meticulous about his science stuff, even if he's a total slob about everything else!” Sans’ face is exceptionally cheerful as he drags his brother's inability to stay neat. You can't help but grin a little at the contrast. 

“Good for us he makes an exception there,” you comment. “He's brilliant when it comes to this stuff.”

“Yeah, it's a shame he doesn't do this anymore,” Sans sighs. “He used to love it so much.”

“How did he get into it in the first place?” you wonder. “He wasn't pressured into it or anything, right?”

“Goodness, no, nothing like that!” Sans protests. “Papyrus is…”

Sans pauses, a thoughtful look overcoming his face that instantly makes him look much closer to his actual age. 

“Papyrus is a really cool guy, but he also finds… challenges in unusual places,” Sans says carefully. “Once he tried to solve the horoscope. As if it was a puzzle. And his speech can sound a bit odd if you're not used to it I suppose. Sometimes that makes it hard for him to find friends, even though he really wants to be liked. Back in the Underground, we had this really prestigious position. The royal scientist. Whoever holds it must have contributed scientific work of great significance to monsterkind and in return they would be tasked with the most advanced and important research. A lot of people looked up to the royal scientist as the person who made their lives better…”

“And your brother thought if he could be like that, he'd gain popularity and friendship,” you guess. 

“Exactly. It seemed like the perfect solution to him, especially since he already has a good mind for research and puzzles and engineering,” Sans confirms. “And for a while it did go really well! He was very good at it, I mean, you know that already, but he also… he was happy. He loved it. He made a friend and at least got along with his colleagues. But one day, he just suddenly seemed to collapse and lost all motivation for it… I don't really know why. Maybe he burned out or still felt too lonely.” 

“He didn't talk about it?”

“No, he always just said things changed and it wasn't for him anymore. Then he suddenly became a sentry to help me, even though I initially took the job to support _him_ while he was studying!” 

“That's very kind of you, to support your brother like that,” you point out. 

“Well! He's my only family after all! Besides, it turned out to be a lot more fun than I initially thought it would be,” Sans muses. “And now the experience might help me do what I really love. So I'm glad I did it, even if it didn't work out for Papy!”

He has that smile on his face again, happy and resolved and excited for the path that lies in front of him. 

You wonder what he’ll be like up there in space, what the experience might be like for him. Not just in terms of how the lack of gravity and all the other things in space might affect his body as a monster, but also how he’d react emotionally. You try to imagine him performing his duties, performing technical work on a space station or doing data entry or scientific research, with the concentrated face he pulls when he really focuses on something. 

How he would laugh at being weightless, how he would look at the stars and the earth so far away from him. 

How the light of the sun would fall on him through the tiny window of a spacecraft as he watches it rise over the planet. 

It occurs to you that you've been staring a little without even saying anything. 

And he's staring back, sockets wide and smiling. 

“Uh, yeah!” you say quickly, perhaps a little eager to make up for it. “Sometimes, you do things for pragmatic reasons and then they turn out to be just right for you. That's always the best outcome. I feel like that with my apprenticeship and coming back to university right now.”

“Right!” Sans agrees equally quickly. “It's working out for both of us and that's good!”

“Exactly.”

“Yes.”

As if on cue, the two of you turn back to the study material in front of you and start talking about equations instead. 

Internally, you wonder what the hell just happened. It's not really like you to go on mental tangents or daydreams about other people to that extent. You prefer to think pragmatically and stay in the here and now for the most part. But then again, spacing out is also in itself not terribly awkward or strange. Sometimes, you just need to think about things for a bit. Yet you acted like it was, and so did Sans. You became better about hiccups and stumbles with regards to awkward moments over the past few weeks, so it surprises you that it happened again now. 

Well, whatever. You have these equations to focus on. Now that the first weeks are over, the training wheels are starting to come off in your classes, and it's increasingly clear that starting early with studying and reviewing material was just as good of an idea as you thought it would be. You're able to stay on top of things easily so far, but you can already identify a few moments where you would have struggled if not for your sessions with Sans. Hopefully, regular study sessions will help you keep it that way. You quite enjoy understanding what's actually going on in class, comprehending what the professor is talking about instead of being confused in the lectures and then having to catch up again later. 

“Hey, does this make sense to you?” Sans asks you suddenly. 

“Which one?” you ask, leaning over to look at his notes. 

“Here.”

“Let me see… uh… I think you start with this variable…”

You help him make sense of the equation, frequently comparing between what he calculated so far and the study notes from the professor and his brother. 

It's quiet apart from your low voice, the enclosed room holding off whatever little noises arise in the library. You can hear a faint hum from the lights above you if you really concentrate, and quiet footsteps when someone passes by your little study room glass front. Sans’ breath, slightly irregular. You notice the shift of his upper body with each breath too and wonder about how that works. When you look up at him, he catches your eye as he was apparently already looking at you and startles for some reason. 

“Sans?” 

“Y-yes!” 

“What's wrong?” you ask with a frown. 

“Nothing!! Nothing at all, I'm good!” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!”

“Uh… okay.”

You look back down and go back to explaining those equations to him, but you can see him go slack out of the corner of your eyes, visibly sagging with relief. 

“Do you understand this one now?” you ask him when you've walked him through all the steps. 

“Yes, thank you for explaining.” He sits still for a second while you scoot back from where you leaned close t him so you can go back to your own notebook. Then he begins to furiously scribble down equations as if his life depends on it. He's throwing himself into it so hard that his skull looks a little blue from the effort. 

You watch him with a vague sense of confusion for about a second, and them decide to put it out of your mind for now. You have to study, and there was this other awkward moment just before already - 

Wait. 

Wait, back up. 

It didn't enter your head at first because, and you're really ashamed to admit that to yourself, because Sans is a monster. But if you disregard that little fact, then it's immediately, blindingly clear to you what those moments were. 

The thought honestly stuns you. 

You stare down at your notes with wide eyes, not reading a single thing. 

Really?!

Your eyes slide to the side but you don't move your head. Sans is still pouring out one calculation after the other, making little indents in the paper with how hard he's pressing his pencil down. His skull is still blue and you notice that his upper teeth are biting onto the flexible ridge below, as if he's biting his lower lips. That looks kind of funny honestly, but it also makes you realise that those ridges definitely have some similarities to lips, and there might be implications to that which you currently aren't quite ready to think about. 

Sans pauses, and you quickly look back down at your notes before he can catch you staring. It feels a little childish, honestly, but then maybe this kind of reaction is independent of age in situations like these. Considering that Sans also seemed flustered about being caught staring at you, it might just be a universal thing when someone feels a little attracted to someone else. 

Ah. There it is. Thinking about it in clear terms like that… well, you can't evade this anymore. If it was any other guy you probably wouldn't even be so surprised honestly. You and Sans hit it off well right from the start and with how often you've been seeing each other in class and for lunch and in study sessions, it's not unusual that you developed an interest in each other. 

When you ruminate on the topic in your thoughts, you notice that your preoccupation with him being a monster is partially because of his unusual body, but even more than that it's because of the political worries that come with it. 

Humans and monsters aren't allowed to date. 

… do you even want to date him?

Would he want that?

What are you going to do?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know that thing where when one thing in your life happens and then everything happens all at once? Cause that was my week last week, haha. Sorry to be late updating, is what I'm trying to say :,D
> 
> Also mild warning that someone gets a bit panicky at the end in this chapter. It's fine though. 
> 
> [You can regularly vote on which of my fics I should work on next on my tumblr!](https://rehlia.tumblr.com/)

Sans paces around the house glancing at every corner. They’re clean. The corners. The whole house is clean. Everything that could be vacuumed has been vacuumed. Everything that could be mopped has been mopped. Knick-knacks dusted, surfaces wiped down. A spritz of air freshener here or there. He debated steaming the carpets and upholstery on the furniture, but his brother talked him out of it. Had that been a mistake?! No, it was fine. He always cleaned when visitors came over but steaming took some time so he didn’t do it too often. You wouldn’t notice. Or care. Right? 

Right. 

Of course you wouldn’t. You never came across as that nitpicky. 

At least his quiche is coming along well, it should be done any minute now, just in time for you to - 

The doorbell rings. 

“Coming!” He hurries to the door and flings it open, revealing your surprised face on the other side. You look like you didn’t expect him to open already, your eyes wide and blinking at him, allowing him a splendid view of their colour. He really likes that colour. 

Anyway. 

“Uh, hi!” he greets you quickly. “Come in.” He steps aside and notices only then that he missed his chance to fling a knock knock joke at you. Which is a real shame because you’re nice enough to play along and act as if you hate his humour even while you keep grinning at it, which is half of the fun really. 

“Hi! Nice house,” you say as you look around, taking in the entryway and living room while you hang up your coat and put your shoes away. He kind of likes seeing how easily you make yourself comfortable in his home, only to immediately tell himself to cut it out and get his shit together. 

“Thanks! I'm afraid it's still a bit empty since we bought it only recently, but we're working on it,” he tells you. 

“I think it already looks nice. Small and cosy.”

“Heh, yeah, the one we had underground was a bit bigger… a lot bigger… but, uh, you know. Size isn't the most important thing. I mean! It counts that the house is comfortable!” 

His skull feels warm. Internally, he curses his magic for being so overexcited. If you noticed his blunder there, you don't show it, taking in the couch and the TV and the door to the tiny kitchen directly next to the stairs. 

“That's true. You can do a lot with very little space if you know how,” you nod. 

“Exactly! And I as someone with great taste plan to make it the best house we could possibly have!” You smile at his sentence and Sans feels glad for it. Not just because of what he blurted out there. He knows you wouldn't be mad at him for calling the house small, that you wouldn't say he's ungrateful for what he has here. You always seemed to be just as frustrated by the limitations placed on his species as he himself was. So this honesty isn't a problem because of you. It's just that he doesn't want to focus on the negatives today, on everything he isn't allowed to do and own yet. 

He's _glad_ to be up here, to have a house and get to learn and work towards his dreams. It's an opportunity he didn't think he'd ever have for a long time, before the barrier was broken. So now that he does have it, he doesn't want to bog it down by being mopey. He wants to enjoy it and have fun with his brother and his old friends and his new friends like you. 

“So, this is the living room and entryway. Over there is the kitchen. The bathroom is next to the kitchen, you have to go through the kitchen and then there's a door. And upstairs are my brother's room and mine,” he explains, showing you around. “We can study in the living room or at the kitchen table after we have eaten. I made a quiche for lunch, I hope you like quiches? It has cheese and spinach in it! Real human food ingredients!”

“Yeah, sounds good! Smells good, too, honestly,” you tell him with a grin. 

He beams at you and tells you to feel at home while he goes to fetch his brother. This is it. He hopes you'll like Papy. You never showed any negative reactions when he talked about his brother, but hearing about those quirks and experiencing them was different. Hopefully he wasn't wrong about you and you'll be nice to his bro in person too. As nice and fun and pretty as you are, he couldn’t get over it if you ended up being mean to his only family. 

For a brief moment, he almost thinks it might be better that way, but then of course Papy would be sad and he can’t genuinely wish for that.

“Papyrus? She's here, we're about to have lunch,” he says, knocking on his brother's door and waiting patiently. Living together they have both learned to give each other privacy instead of barging in like they sometimes want to. He knocks again after a short moment and finally hears the groan telling him that his brother emerged from one of his many catnaps. Why Papyrus prefers to sleep in short bursts and then stay up for ages, Sans would never understand. 

The door opens, and his brother's long face peeks out, looking slightly dazed and sleepy, but quickly coming online. 

“Izzit time already?” he mumbles in the sing-song cadence that has become normal for him, where he tries to keep his naturally booming voice down for the sake of everyone else's eardrums. And also out of shyness. He's painfully aware of how much attention anyone might be paying him at any given moment and he tries his best to match the expectations of whoever might be watching him. 

He tries _so_ hard, even if it doesn't look like it. 

“Yeah! She's in the kitchen. We thought we'd eat together and then study for a bit,” Sans says lightly, covering his own worse with bright enthusiasm. He's not sure if his brother can tell how badly he wants this to work. Sans is generally much better at reading people than Papyrus is, but Papy is better at manipulating people based on what he knows about them. And Papy knows Sans very, very well. 

“Alright,” Papyrus yawns, emerging from the room in his usual slouch, scratching his iliac crest before pulling his soft orange hoodie back over it. Even though he's moving at the speed of a snail, his legs are so long that he's in the kitchen in three steps and Sans has to hurry in order to keep up. He's used to it of course - part of how he built up his constitution. Sans can run for a long time, if he wants to. 

“Heya,” Papyrus greets you once he enters the kitchen. He waves lazily at you and pulls out a chair for himself while you introduce yourself properly, telling him your name and thanking him for the study help. Papyrus waves you off as he sits down, even though to Sans it's pretty clear that he likes having his help acknowledged. 

Meanwhile, Sans uses his kitchen gloves to pull the quiche out of the oven, which is finished by now. He really did time it perfectly. Smiling in satisfaction at a recipe well prepared, he cuts a slice for everyone and serves, sitting down himself after you and Papy got your pieces. You barely take notice when Sans and Papyrus sprinkle their magic over the meal so they can eat it too, already digging in and praising he food. Papyrus also adds a generous helping of honey, much to Sans’ dismay. You politely pretend not to notice, but Papyrus is pretty open about his curiosity watching you eat. 

“Is something wrong?” you eventually ask. 

“Nah. Jus’ interesting to see you eat without magic,” Papyrus comments. “Does it really pass all the way through?”

“What?”

“The food. That just sounds weird.”

Sans suppresses the deep-seated desire to facepalm and reminds himself of how much he loves his brother. 

“Oh. Uh. I guess? I never really paid attention to it. To me it sounds a lot weirder to have food that simply dissolves. And prickles, apparently,” you say with another glance at Papyrus and Sans’ plates. 

“What, you haven't tried sneaking some from my bro yet? Don't you want to?” Papyrus asks.

“Papyrus, that's illegal,” Sans reminds him, giving you a worried glance. 

“I wouldn't want to get you into trouble,” you agree. But your eyes still linger on the food. 

“I wouldn't tell,” Papyrus shrugs. “It's not dangerous, if that's what you're worried about. Your government might say that, but the queen ‘n our former king have been around for ages, even before the barrier went up. Humans used to eat monster food all the time. It's no big issue.”

“Really? That's not something they published on the news.” You frown and Sans can tell that you don't like having information kept from you. 

“They obviously don't want people to try it in secret,” Sans points out. He feels like a wet blanket for trying to discourage you, but he's worried. From his friends, he knows that a lot of monsters are getting along with their human coworkers and neighbors and co-students, but nobody has sounded as enthusiastic about those connections as he feels about you. What if his close friendship with you is being watched? What if someone finds out if he caves and gives you what you want because he doesn’t want to dampen your curiosity? He doesn't want to risk everything over something as silly as food. 

“Fucking politicians,” you grumble. “When it comes to forbidding new pesticides that cause cancer they laze around, but magical healing food is suddenly a problem. This is bullshit.”

Papyrus and Sans both stare at you. Sans doesn't know about his brother, but he himself hasn't heard any human get quite so explicit about the situation yet, cursing out the government like that. Even from you, who hasn't ever shown any prejudice against monsters and even expressed your sympathy to their situation, that's a bit of a shock. Papyrus begins to laugh.

“What, it's true,” you defend yourself, a soft blush rising under your skin. 

“What a rebel,” Papyrus snickers. 

“It just seems unfair. Especially because you have to go out of your way to make human food for me because of this restriction, but apparently nobody has an issue with you eating human food - I mean, I haven’t heard anything about tests on whether or not you can eat our food at least, so.” 

“There haven't been,” Papyrus confirms. At your questioning glance to his confident statement, he adds, “I'm besties with the royal scientist of all monsters. She keeps me updated.”

“Wow.” You look pretty impressed by that. Sans stumbles over that for a second before he remembers that, while he told you about the royal scientist and Papyrus making a friend, he never told you that those two were the same. “You've got some impressive friends. What's the royal scientist like?”

“She's really cool,” Papyrus tells you with a grin, going on to gush about his friend. Sans can tell that he's soaking up the compliment about having important friends even though he doesn’t show it. He wonders if you're being extra nice to Papy because he told you about his brother's difficulties with wanting attention and friendship. If you are, you're being subtle enough about it that even Sans can't tell for sure, which means Papy won't be able to tell either and feel that you're being condescending. 

And with his brother looking so happy, rambling so excitedly and at length about Undyne and how shy and explosive and awkward and fun she could be… 

Sans feels something loosen up inside himself, the anxiety over whether you'd get along with his brother melting, replaced by the gentle warmth and softness he has been feeling around you recently, only stronger. He feels his soul heating up, agitating his magic and sending it in a flare across his body, warming his zygomatic arches and his skull and some of his joints. He can see the small gaps between his phalanges and carpals glowing faintly blue and he knows he's blushing. He's restless all of a sudden, full of energy thanks to the magic flare with nowhere to put it. He starts eating his slice of quiche at a rapid pace, popping pieces so fast into his mouth that the fork screeches over his plate. 

“Uh, bro? You okay?” Papyrus asks. You're giving him a look too, but he's really trying not to focus on you too much right now. 

“Yup! I'm just absolutely starving! Man! I could eat a horse!” 

“Good thing you made a big quiche,” you say. “It's really delicious, by the way.”

“Thank you!”

His brother is squinting at him. Realisation slowly begins to spread on his face, together with a grin. Sans meets this with stony composure and the slight narrowing of his eye sockets that he has perfected for the exact purpose of these silent conversations. A warning.

Papyrus glances over at you, as does Sans, and as soon as they both see you're not looking at them because you're focused on the quiche they go right back to it. 

Sans has to watch his own brother waggle his eyebrows and slowly thumb his nasal bone. Papyrus gets a brief flicker of threatening magic activating in Sans’ left eye socket, which is a pretty big relief after the rush of magic he experienced earlier. His brother only grins more widely in return, his shoulders twitching as he's clearly suppressing a laugh. Sans pierces his next piece of quiche extra hard. Papyrus scratches the spot right on top of his sternum where the soul sits, and forms a circle with his thumb and index finger. Sans replies with a gesture that involves four folded fingers and a single outstretched one in a very specific location. 

“So, about our studies,” you say suddenly, causing both Sans and Papyrus to hastily suppress a flinch and look over to you with a very innocent and a very lazy expression, respectively. 

“Yeah, we should get started and get some work done,” Sans agrees, glad that his brother is stopped for now. 

“Working _hard_ is important,” Papyrus nods with his utmost serious expression. “Especially when you do work _together_.” The ‘wink’ isn’t spoken, but almost audible anyway.

Sans kicks his shin under the table. 

Papyrus’ grin twitches but otherwise he manages to hold his lazily friendly expression.

“Right.” You look between the two of them and Sans quickly springs up to put their plates away now that everyone is finished. The leftover quiche goes into the fridge while you and Papyrus start talking about different metal densities and their uses in various machinery, which unfortunately doesn't stop his brother from littering his speech with subtle and less subtle hints clearly directed at Sans and his… opinions of you. 

Sibling love aside, he actually considers strangling the guy. 

What he ends up doing is better though, because when he sits back down at the table he busts out his worst, most unoriginal metal puns. The least creative of the lot, the lowest hanging fruit of them all. Papyrus, who does have a sense of humour but values creativity and appropriateness of timing more than just cramming them in wherever, looks as if he's the one wanting to do the strangling by the end of it. You on the other hand keep giggling into the tea he offered you. 

Heh. Good. 

“Well, I'm done,” Papyrus says after a particularly dumb pun. 

“Don't leave,” you snicker. “I'm not laughing.”

“Sure you aren't.”

“Don't worry, my brother has never been _laugh_ -ing my jokes much,” Sans says with a grin. 

“That doesn't even make sense, bro.”

“It doesn't have to, it's humour!”

Papyrus displays his impressive ability to roll his eyes in spite of the fact that he doesn't have any, only sockets. 

“Anyway. Nah, im also done ‘cause we've been at it for two hours already. I'm beat.”

“Already?” You pick up your phone to check the time with visible surprise. “Wow. Talk about time flying. I didn't even notice how long we've been doing this because I had so much fun.” 

“Don't let me stop you from having some more,” Papyrus tells you with an actual wink before he vanishes around the corner of the door. 

Sans will definitely, absolutely send a dozen blasters after his brother and then strangle his dust. He glances over at you and finds you looking between the door and him with a raised eyebrow. Your cheeks look a little red.

Are you… blushing too?

His soul trembles inside of him.

Is it from the implication or is it something more? What does it mean? Are you uncomfortable with it or not? Is it perhaps because you might like him too? Because if you maybe like him at least a little bit too then - 

And pause. 

Stop. 

There is no then, no ifs or buts or maybes. The can't be, because regardless of what this is, it can never happen. It's forbidden. You're a human, he's a monster, the two of you are friends and that's _all_. It doesn't matter that his soul is burning with heat in his ribcage or that you two are staring at each other again for much longer than what's normal, just like you did in the library, he managed to burn some of his energy off then by focusing on his equations but right now he finds himself trapped, frozen with his mind completely blank while his soul goes into overdrive with nothing to put the energy to. 

There's nothing left in his skull.

“I… I should probably go,” you finally say in a quiet voice. 

“Oh. Yeah. Right. I bet you have stuff to do.” The words leave his mouth automatically while everything inside him screams at him to stop you, to stop the sudden awkwardness hanging in the air, to beg you to stay. He wanted to have have fun hanging out with you as a friend today, he doesn’t want it to end like this now.

But instead he just watches as you pack up your stuff. He gets up with you and walks you to the door, watches you put all your stuff back on to brace for the autumn chill outside. 

“Thanks for inviting me today.” You're smiling at him. He feels warm. “I had a lot of fun learning with you and your brother. You were right, he's a really cool guy.”

“Thank you for saying that,” he replies. 

“I mean it. He's great. Well, not as great as you of course,” you laugh. 

“Heh, thanks.” His soul is _way_ too hot and tight. His magic is flowing freely over his skull and his joints, colouring them blue. “You're pretty great too.”

“Well… see you next time!” 

You spontaneously lean forwards and give him this awkward little hug. A testing little “we're friends and sometimes friends hug each other goodbye and I guess we're doing that now” hug.

And the thing is, he _tries_ to stop himself.

Really, he does. 

But he's always been an affectionate person, he's been trying to hold it in all day while being teased and he's so happy to be close to you, practically vibrating with unspent energy and magic and his soul is overreacting and… Something that has been tautening in him all day simply snaps.

Before he knows it, he has wrapped his arms around you fully, nuzzling his nasal bone against your nose and brushing the softer ridge surrounding his teeth against your lips. He feels your warm body for a moment, the strength of your muscles that you must have built thanks to your welding job and the softness covering them. Feels your lips and your hot breath on his teeth, the jumping shudder of your surprise. 

Then he snaps out of it and stumbles back, staring at you in rising horror. 

Your eyes are wide, blinking, searching his face, mirroring what he feels of his own expression. The red rising on your face now is definitely a blush. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says, his voice hushed. You laugh, the sound blurting out of you before you slap a hand over your mouth. He feels his soul curl up in his chest, all the heat and excitement of it vanishing so fast that he feels as though someone dunked him in ice water. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry.”

“Sans, it's - “

“Please forget this happened. It didn't happen. Okay? Please.”

“What? But…”

Your face rapidly changes, the blush receding together with the joy of your spontaneous laughter. You look confused and a little hurt. Sans begins to panic at that look. You can't be hurt, because then maybe you'll be mad at him, and you can't be mad. He's never seen you angry. He doesn't know how you would react when you're angry and with your feelings hurt… 

It’s like he can already feel the mountain press on him again, it's dark entrance rising behind him. A blackened maw ready to swallow him whole, and with him everyone he cares about, everyone's hopes and dreams, the happiness and freedom of his whole species ruined just because he couldn't stop his own stupid overexcited emotions. Just like the child so many think he is. And for what? He doesn't know if this is something deeper or if he only likes you because he gets along with you, if this is love or a silly little superficial crush based on the fact that you have a good sense of humour and a face he likes and a beautiful smile and strong calloused hands and acceptance in your soul and a hunger to improve and a steady calmness to your every decision and - he's - he _needs to stop_.

“Sans? Sans!” You're shaking him, your face pulled tight with a scared sort of frown. 

“It didn't happen! It didn't happen! Please forget about it! Don't tell anyone!” His voice sounds high pitched and out of breath. It's weird because he's definitely breathing, fast and hard. 

“It's okay, calm down, I won't say anything!”

It's the truth. He can read it on your face, so earnest and concerned for him. There's so much warmth there, layered underneath the worry. Your hands are strong and steady on his shoulders, holding him firm, seeping your body heat into his bones.

“You need to go,” he chokes out. 

You look at him sadly, but you finally stop protesting. You let go and step back, take your bag. 

“See you… on Monday?” you ask. 

“Sure.” It's out before he can control himself. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to face you then. He'll have to figure it out over the weekend, what to do on Monday. You give him an insecure smile and then leave, pulling the door shut quietly once you're out. 

Sans stands there and stares at it, listens to you hesitate on the other side for just a fraction too long before your steps recede, moving away from the house. His skull falls forwards against the wood of the door with a dull thunk. The surface feels cool against the heated bone. His breath slows and with that, his thoughts settle. The wild panic is receding, but his soul still feels icy and pained, jagged shards piercing him with each breath. 

He feels so stupid. 

He already knew it couldn't be. He _knew_. Why did he have to go and mess it up?

Stupid, stupid emotions. 

Stupid, stupid Sans. 

“...bro?”

His brother's voice sounds more quiet than Sans has ever heard it. Even the lilt of it is gone, no more hint of him trying to suppress his usual volume. It makes Sans’ soul squeeze even more. 

“...bro I’m… I'm sorry…”

“You don't have to apologise,” Sans tells him, deliberately calm even though his voice still sounds a little rough and tight. 

“But…”

“This is on me. It's fine.”

His brother doesn't reply and the silence feels too oppressive for Sans’ tastes. He can't let it stand like that. He has to go on, for his brother if not for himself, like he always has. He's the older one. He has to lead the way and be strong. So he puts as much energy and confidence into his voice as he can as he pushes himself away from the door to reassure his brother. 

“It's fine!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans being like that dog sitting in a burning house going "This is fine! :D"


End file.
